


Fast Food

by Kokolo



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: Brotherhood of Mutants, Double Entendre, Flirting, Innuendo, M/M, Puns & Word Play, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kokolo/pseuds/Kokolo
Summary: The Brotherhood discuss dinner plans. Pietro adds an unnecessary level of complication.
Relationships: Lance Alvers/Pietro Maximoff
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Fast Food

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted June 12, 2017 on [my Tumblr.](https://whattheficery.tumblr.com/post/161738567049/fic-fast-food)
> 
> Edited by the always lovely Mugsandpugs <3

The worst part about being with Pietro wasn't the secrecy or the close calls. The worst part was meeting Pietro even part of the way when it came to flirting. And Pietro was _blatant_ with it. It went over most people's heads, sure, but even when it didn't it didn't stop him from being utterly, aggressive relentless when it came to teasing. Most attributed it to Pietro's personality. Lance attributed it to Pietro's insatiable lust.    
  
"I'm in the mood for Greek."   
  
Lance picked his head up and frowned, pointedly glaring at Pietro. He got a wink in response, which didn't help at all. It didn’t matter that Lance missed the start of the conversation, or would intentionally try to miss the latter half. What mattered was that Pietro got his attention, and now Lance was hooked in for the romp through hellish double entendres and barely masked dirty talk.    
  
He didn't mind it, truly. Pietro's teasing was nice, if not a little overwhelming. Lance's frustration was based mostly on the fact there was no equivalent that he could use to bait Pietro in turn. Bayville was pretty diverse, but Lance didn't know about any Polish places they could eat. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure he'd had Polish food before. 

And the one Russian place he knew about would only make Pietro jealous if he mentioned it. Or upset that he confused two apparently vastly different cultures with his ignorance.    
  
"Yo man that sounds good." Todd said suddenly, breaking into the not-private conversation. "I could go for a falafel."   


“You’ve got to be careful Toad.” Pietro remarked sagely, glancing at Lance. “It can be messy.”

“Who fuckin cares?”

“I mean I personally don’t mind it, but _some_ people get upset when they’re covered in that hot, white sauce.”

The floor rumbled. Todd, undeterred, shrugged. “I like the white stuff man.”

“Oh you do?” Pietro asked, surprise in his voice. He glanced at Lance again, and added. “I would have never thought you were the type.”

“Pietro.” Lance said suddenly sternly, butting into the conversation. He didn’t mind the teasing. It just made his blood boil to think that Todd was being dragged through this filth without his knowledge. 

“What man you don’t like Greek?” Todd asked, shifting to hop to the opposite arm of the chair. “I mean we could get pizza. But like man we’ve been havin’ it for fuckin ever, yo.”

“Because it's cheap and feeds everyone.”

“I’ve got a couple extra dollars.” Pietro offered, grinning, benevolent as he could while being a complete sleaze. “Anything for something good and hot.”

Lance set his jaw. Without a word, he admitted his defeat, and Todd picked up on it instantly. He hopped off the couch and into the kitchen, yanking apart drawers for a pen so he could take orders. He thundered around the house, loud thumps and yelling to Fred to decide what he wanted. 

Pietro, content in his win, barely noticed how Lance shifted from defeat to forming a new plan. Admirably fast, Lance thought to himself, although Pietro would probably say later he knew it was coming. 

"In the mood for Greek, huh?" Lance asked, his shadow blotting out Pietro against the wall, his weight pressing him into it.    


"Maybe- maybe a bite- ah!" Pietro gasped, groaning, titling his head away from Lance's teeth, cheek flat on the wall. "What's wrong with having a preference?"   


"Nothing wrong with that." Lance said simply into his neck, grasping him by the waist. "You don't seem to find any problem with telling everyone."   


"Well no-"   


"Oh good." Lance said, sliding his hands around to the front of Pietro's jeans. "Then I hope you're hungry."    


“The kids.” Pietro whimpered. “They’ll - they’ll be down any sc-ahh- second.”

“Like you give a shit.”   


Pietro offered up a strained, strange little laugh, shifting back only to be shoved into the wall with a heavy thump. He groaned then, open and maybe a little exaggerated, but Lance didn’t mind the show. He strained to listen between the heavy breath and Todd wandering around upstairs. Fred too from what it sounded like. Lance’s plan formed into a bigger and better version. 

“Fuck Lance - c’mon.” Pietro whined, quiet still, shifting like he could look through the wall and see someone coming and save his own pride. 

“Gonna apologize?”

Pietro snorted. “No. Just because you’re all hot and bothered-” Pietro grit his teeth, Lance’s hand on his dick, squeezing.

“Not about me, you shameless perv.” Lance teased, “How dare you bring Todd into this.”

“Oh ew, don’t ever bring him up with your hand on my dick.” Pietro grunted, every trace of arousal replaced with naked disgust. Lance kissed his neck in supplication, but didn’t let up. 

“You started it.” Lance reminded, “Don’t do it again.”

“Or what?”

“You know exactly what.”

“Please, _please_ tell me.” Pietro begged, back to flirty in no time flat. Lance admired that about him. It did not keep him from shoving Pietro against the wall and stroking, and then leaving him mid broken moan for the couch. Pietro whipped around to look at him, betrayed, only to be startled by Todd dropping into the foyer. 

“Hey Todd.” Lance said smoothly, “Got everything?

“Yeah man wanna go get?”

“How about you and Fred go.”

“No foolin?” Todd’s whole face lit up. “That mean I can drive the jeep, yo?”

“If you take Fred. And go to the Greek place _only.”_

“Yo yeah man holy shit.” Todd said, breathless. “Nice!”

“Uh… I mean we could al go.” Pietro said, now arranged strategically against the wall, hiding the reddening bite mark from earlier. “Or I could go.”

“Nah man nah - I wanna drive fuck off we got it.” Todd said amicably. “We gonna need the cash tho.”

Lance pointed to Pietro, who didn’t bother to cover the daggers he was glaring. He all but threw this wallet at Todd’s head. Todd caught it with his tongue.

“Gonna need change man?”

“Oh God no. No. You keep it.” Pietro covered his mouth, on the verge of being sick. Or miming it. Whatever it took to keep Todd from looking too closely. 

“Be good, you guys.” Lance said, bored, watching Pietro squirm. 

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah okay sure whatever - Fred! Buddy let’s _go_ before he changes his mind!”

Todd and Fred made quick work of their goodbyes. Pietro and Lance stayed still, watching each other. That is, until they both heard the sound of tires squealing leaving the driveway. Lance winced and sighed. Then he stood, hands in pockets, and raised a brow. 

“Still in the mood for Greek?” Lance asked, checking out the window one last time, even though the engine had long since faded.   


“Sure am.”   


“Will you be once I’m done with you?”

“Oh I don’t know.” Pietro said, his back flat to the wall, smiling at Lance as he approached. “Delivery drivers take _so_ long. And I’m _so_ hungry.”

“Shameless, you mean.”   


“Maybe a little bit of both.” Pietro reached up to rub at his neck, and then reach out to grab Lance’s shirt and pull him closer. “Hurry up and eat your fill.”

**Author's Note:**

> Twas a silly idea because I had Greek food for the first time?? It was super good. 
> 
> Also fun fact - in literally every other version of the X-Men Lance is actually an enormous Greek man called Dominic and looks like a chrome plated Tonka truck. Idk makes me giggle


End file.
